


The smell of smoke

by Taniushka12



Series: Things to fuel a fire [1]
Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Burning, Desolation!Martin, Fire, Gen, Light Angst, M/M, mentions of his mother, one-sided Jonathan Sims/Martin Blackwood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-18 14:24:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 607
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19336333
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taniushka12/pseuds/Taniushka12
Summary: It was hard, to be a living candle when most of your house was covered in papers; poems, letters, love, grief... It was hard to not burn a couple of those in the process.





	The smell of smoke

**Author's Note:**

> Today I was hit w/ a wave of inspo and quickly wrote this instead of studying *peace sign*

_Write your words on a paper and then burn it_ , how many times he had read those words in self-care articles and things of the like? Write your anxieties, your _fears_ , your **love** , write all those things that weight your down and burn them. He had felt so sick the time he saw his mother's name slowly burning away, just like herself, that he swore to never do that particular exercise again. After all he couldn't just burn his words like they meant nothing. They all meant something, that was why he wrote them. Why he wrote his poems, why he wrote his letters, why he stacked every inch of his house with little scribbles and his garbage with pointless and unfinished letters that either way she would never read.

 But now he could see it, after all those years, he could see the appeal.

 And it only took one mistake, draw attention from the wrong crowd, _die_ , for him to see it. There in his house, with the latest poem he wrote before this entire travesty with his rushed words and quick trace with all his bottled up feelings that he tried oh so hard to keep down (instead of other feelings that brimmed from him like a Light, burning so brightly), it only took a pointedly press of his fingers in the left upper edge of the page and it started spreading. The white turned black turned ash grey, the _fire_  moving slowly, inviting, and the smell of smoke rising for his nose to smell, it was almost sweet, heart-breaking too.

 He started looking at his less than excellent poems that he kept neatly on a folder, individually reading them and picking apart the ones he particularly liked before burning the rest of it, panic swelling on his heart at the sight of years of work burning away to ashes, fire growing bigger. He took his trashcan and started slowly ripping apart the words he had tried so hard to paint with love, genuine love, for his mother, picking speed at the memory of Elias' words and her own cold and sad eyes. He could see those same eyes every time he looked at a mirror, and for a moment he wondered if a candle could see without them.

 By the end he was walking on a desert of dark, ashen grey mutilated words, remembering each and every one of those with something shifting on his chest. Perhaps it was fire, perhaps he was melting, perhaps his heart wasn't quite wax yet and it was desperately trying to avoid the flames, only to be eaten away in parts. Teared away in parts, hurting, aching, scared.

 _"Pathetic, and weak."_ Jude had said and... She wasn't right. It wasn't.

 But she did have a point.

 Martin held a couple of papers above his head to read them against the pale light of his small kitchen, some poems addressed to Him. To Jon. A sea of words bleeding down from his heart, words of longing, of jealousy, of grief, of love... As his grip got tighter and shaky he could see the already familiar ember under his fingers, and he took a deep breath. He could never hurt Jon, he thought with resolve. He would never do anything to him, he hoped. He will never want to make him suffer in any way, touch a hair of him or see him in pain and suffering because of him. He wished.

 And with a kiss on his name the paper gave in with such hunger, and the smoke that rose and enveloped him was the sweetest he'd ever smell.

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly? The desolation has to be my second fave power after the flesh, and i Love martin, so the Mere idea of desolation!martin is GOOD i rest my case
> 
> Hope you liked it!! I'm [@yaboyspodcastpalace](http://yaboyspodcastpalace.tumblr.com) in tumblr if you ever wanna talk ^^
> 
> pd: ok so funny story: earlier today i was eating some burnt orange w/ cheese next to the stove, as you do, when my paper napkin accidentally caught on fire! And as I was looking at the flame very slowly eat the napkin i thought to myself "huh i can make something out of this..."


End file.
